


No Matter What

by QueenofStarlight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 19:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12217296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofStarlight/pseuds/QueenofStarlight
Summary: Keith, despite being the conspiracy theorist he is, would have never expected to be suddenly thrown from his relatively peaceful college life straight into a raging zombie apocalypse.M for Strong Language, Graphic Gore & Violence, and Major Character Death





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Teki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teki/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [Teki](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Teki)!! This is your wonderful, angsty as fuck birthday gift. I'm not sorry. Good luck!!

Keith, despite being the conspiracy theorist he is, would have never expected to be suddenly thrown from his relatively peaceful college life straight into a raging zombie apocalypse.

He’s in class when the news strikes, ignoring the professor’s explanations of artistic theories he already understands in favor of doodling a certain brunet. Nothing is out of the ordinary around him: the monotonous clicking of both his neighbor’s red ballpoint pen and the unreasonably loud hands of the clock on the wall, the way the professor seemed to go off into another world as he spewed entire speeches quoted directly from the textbook, the muffled whispers of students behind Keith and someone in his row bouncing their leg and shaking the entire table.

Keith ignores it all, fully absorbed in his drawing. The blue colored pencil has been worn down to only a few inches, the picture on his page showing depth through layers and layers of pencil lead over one another to create shading. Keith lets out a not-so-quiet “fuck” as his pencil accidentally rips through the page in a spot he’s gone over one too many times.

He jumps half a foot in the air when an ear-splitting shriek rings out in the lecture hall, the old PA system crackling to life. Shaky words filter out through the speaker, the familiar voice of the university’s Principal capturing the class’ attention, shrill and panicked unlike the usual stoic sureness the woman usually portrayed.

“All s-students, please stay in your classrooms, d-do not go outside the compound, lock all-”

The Principal’s voice begins to quiver and the words become more hurried and linked together, until no one can understand her at all, and then the intercom cuts out.

No one moves for a long moment, everyone either too stunned or too confused to know what to do. Then screaming is audible in the hall outside, and people begin to panic. Keith jumps again as the glass in the tiny window of the door is shattered from the outside, a bloodied arm poking through and grabbing at empty air, animalistic groans and snarls echoing throughout the room, mixing with shouts of surprise. The door swings open, and a young girl with dark brown skin and perfectly styled black curls stumbles in.

At first, nothing happens. The girl stares blankly ahead, panting and slouched unnaturally. Keith then realizes he actually knows the girl, had once spent an entire lunch period talking about theories on alien life with her, enjoying her bright smile and sophisticated speech. All of that is now gone as she suddenly pounces on the professor with a deafening screech, teeth sinking into his arm, screams from their professor and many of the students making Keith’s ears hurt.

Keith doesn’t wait for the girl’s attention to deviate elsewhere- he takes in a few deep breaths and grabs his things, eyes not leaving the scene at the front of the room as students race toward the second exit in a nosy crowd of panic and chaos. Keith merges with the crowd and is dragged out of the room by the current, his sketchbook clutched tight against his chest.

The chaos is only more intense outside the classroom, screams and footsteps blending together as students and teachers alike shove past each other in a rush to escape, though no one is going in the same direction. There is blood pooling in places and several bodies collapsed on the floor, convulsing unnaturally and making noises no normal human should be capable of. Keith’s mind races as fast as his heart and he spins around, trying to take in what is happening.

He turns back toward his classroom to see the young girl walking out the same door she’d come in through, blood covering her face and hands. A taller, wider boy runs up to her and grabs her by the shoulders, turning her towards him and speaking in rushed, worried tones. It’s too far away for Keith to hear what he’s saying, but he recognizes the boy as Hunk Garrett, someone so kind and caring and terribly in love with his girlfriend- Shay Bennett. The girl he’s talking to.

The girl who just killed Keith’s professor only a few minutes prior, no longer anything like her human self.

Keith shouts for Hunk to get away from her, and the tall boy turns to look at him confusedly, not understanding. Keith starts to walk toward them, but stops in his tracks as Shay bites into Hunk’s throat and rips her heads sideways, a chunk of tanned flesh dropping to the tile as blood pools around them and Hunk falls to the floor. Shay stares blankly at his body for but a moment before turning to Keith, eyes completely white. She snarls, taking a step forward, and Keith takes off at a sprint in the opposite direction.

As he runs through the maze of university hallways, the image of Hunk and Shay is at the front of Keith’s mind. They were people he knew. People he was _friends_ with. Now Hunk is dead, and Shay is… no longer Shay. Keith only has one word to describe her: _zombie._

Keith tries not to think too hard about the fact that he’s using the term “zombie” to describe a real life person in a situation outside a joke, and keeps running, barely stopping to take in the sign that reads “World Studies Building” in peeling white script as he passes, throwing open the doors to the building and making sure they click closed behind him. Hopefully zombies can’t open doors.

Scanning the long hallway of doors, Keith finds it just as chaotic as the Arts building had been, a plethora of bodies convulsing on the floor while a select few roam freely, turning towards Keith at the noise of the entrance opening and closing. He searches desperately for a familiar face, and finds the person he’s looking for- Lance, wielding a bloodied baseball bat and swinging at a freshman Keith vaguely remembers him complaining about once upon a time.

“Lance!” Keith yells, watching as Lance’s swing hits and knocks the zombie to the floor, writhing in pain and letting out gross coughs. Lance turns to him, panicked, and visibly relaxes.

Keith hurries over and clings onto Lance, wrapping his arms around the brunet and holding tight.

“We have to go, have to get off campus.” He says, gripping Lance’s hand tight in his own. “Where did you get a baseball bat?”

Lance shrugs. “The guy who sits next to me in Political Science is on the baseball team. He...he didn’t need it anymore.” The look that falls on Lance’s features says he’s seen the same things Keith has. “But leave? We have to find everyone else first! We have to find Shiro, and Hunk-”

Keith must have made a face when Hunk was mentioned, because Lance pauses and looks at him pointedly. “Keith? What happened to Hunk?”

“...Shay turned. She came into my class and- and killed our Professor. Hunk came to try and find her when we were evacuating, but she...she killed him…” Keith explains, avoiding Lance’s eyes.

He doesn’t hear any sobs, but turns to find silent tears tracking down Lance’s face, though his gaze is hardened. Neither of them move to speak first, so Keith simply tugs Lance by the hand, leading him out of the building and leaving their slow-walking, undead schoolmates behind.

Keith’s first instinct had been to find his boyfriend, and now, his next thought is to head toward the Science building, where he knows his brother will be, along with their remaining friends. He tries not to doubt that they’re still alive - completely alive - and focuses on getting there in one piece. But suddenly Lance is pulling on his hand, stopping in the middle of the walkway between the World Studies building and the Science building.

Turning around to ask what the hold up is (his mind definitely doesn’t immediately jump to something holding Lance in place) and finds Lance staring into the distance. Keith follows his gaze and lands on a familiar head of silver-blonde hair. Allura Altea, his brother’s fiance. Lance’s closest friend aside from Hunk, and someone he’d once had a crush on, before Keith had come along and brought his older brother to steal Allura’s attention.

Lance looks elated, and Keith understands. After all, who wouldn’t be happy to see someone they care for when they know their closest friends are long dead?

But then Lance is calling out to her, and Allura’s turning around, displaying white eyes and a bite mark that chewed out half her cheek, exposing her molars. Keith hears a choked sob fall from Lance’s lips, and Allura steps closer, unseeing eyes focused on them.

Keith reaches for the bat.

Lance jerks it backward with a look of disbelief, and Keith simply stares back, watching Allura in his peripheral. She creeps closer, steps speeding up

“You can’t,” Lance whispers, eyes not leaving Keith’s.

Allura lets out a garbled screech and starts running toward them, and Keith shoves Lance away, gripping the bat in both hands and swinging it at full velocity into Allura’s head when she comes in range, effectively shattering her skull and splintering the bat with the force of the hit. Allura falls to the ground, blood pooling around the fracture, inhuman cries of pain slowly fading into silence.

Lance starts bawling and Keith feels tears welling up in his own eyes, but he gives them no time to mourn, dragging Lance away from the other zombies slowly approaching. Without a weapon, they have no means of protecting themselves, and Keith hopes the Science building won’t be too full of the undead. He can’t bear the thought of putting Lance in danger, even for his brother.

They round a corner, and Keith instinctively shoves Lance back at the sight of several bodies not even three feet away. Lance topples to the dirt and Keith prepares to pull him back up so they can run again, but then he recognizes the SWAT team uniforms, a group of four soldiers holding automatic weapons and shouting at them to put their hands up.

Keith and Lance both comply, and two of the soldiers drag Lance to his feet. Keith keeps his eyes on Lance as the soldiers search the both of them, presumably looking for bites, though not being the most courteous or gentle with their search. When they find none, the soldiers shove Keith back toward Lance and he holds his boyfriend close as they’re lead away from the Science building.

“Wait, my brother! He’s in that building! You have to let me go look for him!” Keith says, stopping in his tracks when he realizes their direction away from the school.

One of the soldiers turns back to glare at him. “If you go back in there, you’re as good as dead. You’re lucky we’re even here helping you. So shut up and follow.” He says, wrapping one hand tight around Keith’s forearm and pulling him across the courtyard.

Lance’s hands cling to Keith’s other arm. “Shiro’s a strong guy, Keith. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Keith nods hesitantly and glances back at the Science building. He knows his brother is strong, knows he’s smart, knows he’s capable of anything. But it’s also his _brother._ He can’t help but worry, the same way he knows Lance must be worrying for his family right about now. Keith briefly considers forcing himself out of the soldier’s grasp, but he doesn’t want to forsake their chances of getting out of here. And he doesn’t want to leave Lance, either.

The soldiers lead them across the university’s main courtyard, and up ahead, Keith can see long lines of buses crowding the parking lot alongside military jeeps and heaps of soldiers. The men leading them shoot off rounds every once in a while, mowing down the undead in their path. As they approach the nearest bus, Keith turns back toward the building, searching the faces running toward military protection for one he recognizes.

One of the soldiers is yelling at them to get on the bus when Keith spots his brother.

“Shiro!” He yells, shoving free of the soldier’s grasp. “Shiro!” Lance follows as Keith takes a few steps forward, soldiers yelling at him to stop, hands grasping at his arms, holding him.

Shiro looks up from where he’s dragging his best friend Matt across the courtyard, limping and covered in blood. Keith’s stomach churns as his eyes fall on his brother’s right arm. It’s missing, cut off just below the shoulder and dripping blood down Matt’s side, Shiro looking exhausted and in pain. His expression seems to brighten when his eyes meet Keith’s, but the shock of seeing Shiro’s arm is enough pause for the soldiers to grab hold of Keith and pull him back.

“Let go of me, that’s my brother you assholes! Let me go!” He screams, frantically pulling at their grips on him. Then Lance is by his side, also holding him back. Keith feels an inkling of betrayal. “Lance, what the hell?! That’s my brother, I need to help him-”

Lance’s eyes aren’t on him, and Keith once again follows his gaze. The soldiers around them are all pointing their guns at Shiro and Matt. They’ve gotten closer now, close enough for Keith to see the bite marks covering Shiro’s right side, how Matt is writhing in Shiro’s loose grasp. A series of clicks alert him to the release of safety on guns, and Keith wants so badly to stop them.

He now understands how Lance had felt when he was about to bash Allura’s head in.

Keith can’t stop the tears now, not when his brother, the only family he has left, is standing right in front of him, about to die by human hands. He feels Lance’s arms snake around his waist and hold him in place, keeping him from trying to intervene. Keith watches Shiro stop walking, Matt stirring at his side. He watches as Matt bites into the flesh blow Shiro’s missing arm. His brother barely reacts with more than a look of vague discomfort.

“Shiro!” Keith yells again. Grey eyes meet violet and Keith pulls at the people holding him down, but Lance’s grip is strong around him. Shiro smiles a weary smile Keith knows all too well.

“Keith, I love you.”

Shots ring out, overpowering every other sound and making Keith’s ears sting, and Keith shouts incoherently against the shooting as Shiro and Matt fall onto the bloodied university lawn. Lance’s hands are warm around Keith as the soldiers drag them onto the bus, and he collapses into an empty seat, Lance’s grip never loosening even as the doors close and the bus starts pulling out of the parking lot. Keith sinks into Lance’s arms, hands running through his hair.

Keith feels the bus stop again, but he keeps his face buried in Lance’s chest. He doesn’t notice as more shaken students and military personnel get on. He does notice Lance’s chest heave, his heart rate speed up again, and he tries to move to see what the reason for it is. Lance’s grip holds him down and his voice whispers in Keith’s ear: “You don’t need to see.”

Keith complies, and he doesn’t see his childhood friend Pidge standing on the sidewalk outside the bus. He doesn’t see the vacant look in her eyes, the blood on her face. He doesn’t see the severed arm in her hands. He doesn’t see the black braided bracelet around the bloodied wrist that matches his own. The bracelets that were Shiro’s idea, and that Keith had once thought were dumb and childish.

All he sees is the blue of Lance's shirt, and even that turns to black when he closes his eyes against the world. He sobs into Lance's sweatshirt, feels his boyfriend’s chest racking against his face. The bus starts moving again, lurching over speed bumps and screeching around turns, the vehicle filled with noise as the other passengers turn hysteric over the day’s events.

“We’re all we have left now.” Lance says, his hands clinging to Keith’s shirt. “What are we going to do?”

Keith pulls back from Lance, takes his boyfriend’s hands in his own, runs his thumbs over the chipped blue nail polish on Lance’s fingertips. “We live.” He mumbles, meeting Lance’s eyes, as blue as his nails, though red around the edges. “We live for everyone else who died.”

Lance nods slowly, sniffling and gripping Keith’s hands tighter. “Stay with me? No matter what?”

“No matter what.” Keith promises.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~~~  
>  [Here's a playlist to listen to while you reread this fic and cry lmao](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3Lp3jcAeHv0FJua29N5o-7fP3HpEdB_S)   
> 


End file.
